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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27033397">haircut</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypercatt/pseuds/hypercatt'>hypercatt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>South Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Pining, theyre like 15-16 here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:48:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27033397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypercatt/pseuds/hypercatt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A different hairstyle can really change how someone looks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>haircut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is sooooo self indulgent hahaha.............<br/>just needed more girl au style in my life.............</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>june</strong>
</p>
<p>Two weeks before the start of Summer Break, Stacey gets a haircut.</p>
<p>Kylie hardly recognises her friend as she saunters up to the bus stop, taking a moment to double-take as Stacey slides into place next to her, staring ahead like nothing is wrong. Cartman and Kenna don’t say anything, so Kylie takes it upon herself to mention the obvious.</p>
<p>“You changed your hair,” she says, and Stacey turns to her, face impassive.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she says in return, rocking on her heels slightly. Kylie waits.</p>
<p>“...Why?”</p>
<p>“Well, you know.” Stacey shrugs. “It’s getting kind of hot. I thought I’d have a better chance of not dying to the heat if I have less hair to worry about. Global warming and all, you know.”</p>
<p>“I guess,” Kylie says, and then looks properly. It’s way stranger than she would have thought, seeing the face of her best friend, the same as always, wearing the same band t-shirt she’s had for years, also the same as always, but- then, not being the same as always. It was down past her shoulders before, but now it hardly even reaches her chin. “It’s- different.”</p>
<p>Stacey just gives a half-smile, and even though Kylie knows she wouldn’t really care if she said it was good or bad, she still feels like she should have said more. Well, Kylie isn’t really sure if it <em>is </em>good or bad. It’s kind of weird. Makes her face look different? Or maybe older. Something about her feels like it’s changed, somehow. Kylie is pretty sure the appropriate amount of time for staring has passed, but she can’t help but steal glances as they stand waiting, looking out for the bus. Even Cartman’s usual stupid comments don’t fully reach her ears, too lost in her thoughts.</p>
<p>It really shouldn’t be a big deal. Kylie is the type of girl to change her hairstyle every few months, going from long to short from buns to ponytails to braids, but that’s mostly because her hair is a huge pain and she’s willing to do anything to force it into something more controllable. It’s less to do with fashion than it is to do with air humidity and rainfall and all stuff like that. The hat helps, but it doesn’t work miracles.</p>
<p>But Stacey has always stuck to the same, simple hairstyle. Always straight, always unbothered about, always long. Kylie has seen her tie it up before football games a few times, but mostly she sticks with shoving it down the back of her shirt if she needs it out the way.</p>
<p>Stacey has never had <em>short</em> hair.</p>
<p>Kylie stares at the back of Stacey’s neck as they board the bus, distantly thinking how she’s never seen it without hair covering it before. Then she decides she should probably stop thinking it as much. It’s really- not a big deal.</p>
<p>“Dude, if it’s already hot enough to wear a t-shirt in South Park of all places, there’s no way we’re gonna survive the actual summer,” Stacey says as she takes the seat next to her, and Kylie places her backpack on her lap in autopilot. “Are you going anywhere in the holidays?”</p>
<p>“I dunno, probably.” Kylie forces herself to focus on Stacey’s face instead of her hair, even if that looks different now too. “My dad’ll probably force us all to go visit family for a few days, but that’s it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, same.” Stacey leans into the seat, letting her head fall back. “Summer hasn’t even started yet, and I’m already bored.”</p>
<p>“It’ll go fast, dude,” Kylie says. “It always does.”</p>
<p>“Not since I was eight,” Stacey says, frowning. “Well, if you’re not going anywhere, let’s hang out.”</p>
<p>“Obviously.” Kylie shakes her head. “What else would I be doing?”</p>
<p>“Studying? I don’t know, dude. You’ve got more going on than me.”</p>
<p>“Hardly.” Kylie only half believes that, and she’s sure Stacey doesn’t at all, but she smiles at her anyway, leaning her head over to her. It’s so strange not having black strands of hair drift over her shoulder like usual.</p>
<p>It probably just needs some getting used to.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Kylie has always liked living next door to Stacey; it’s one of those things she never really appreciated until she got older and realised how far most people had to go to meet with their friends. The stints where Stacey’s family had moved away were hard, but Kylie always kept it in mind that they were temporary, so it never felt as serious. Though one day, it might not be. She has to remember that. And it’s why she has to appreciate it now.</p>
<p>“You think anyone’s gonna actually show up for that test next week?” Stacey asks as they walk back home, her bag half off her shoulder in a way Kylie thinks looks more uncomfortable than cool.</p>
<p>“They better,” Kylie says, then shoots her friend a look. “<em>You</em> better.”</p>
<p>“It’s a test the day before Summer Break. Who cares?”</p>
<p>“It’s <em>important</em>, they’re going to keep those grades for next year,” Kylie says, frowning.</p>
<p>“There’s no way they care that much about some test. I bet most people don’t even show up.”</p>
<p>“I’m gonna be seriously pissed if you’re included in that,” Kylie says, and throws Stacey a warning glance when she doesn’t reply. Then she focuses her eyes back ahead, staring at the washed out blue and the sun that never seems to set. “Do you think you’re going to keep it short?”</p>
<p>Stacey glances at her. “What?”</p>
<p>“Your hair.”</p>
<p>“Is it that weird?” Stacey throws at her, pausing in her walk, and Kylie is caught off-guard, stopping at the same time. She looks kind of confused and kind of irritated, which is surprising, since Kylie’s normally the one insecure about her looks, not Stacey.</p>
<p>“I didn’t say it was weird-“</p>
<p>“You keep mentioning it, and staring,” Stacey says, putting one hand up to touch the end strands. “I didn’t think you were gonna make such a big deal out of it, jeez. If you think it looks bad, I don’t care, whatever, but just say it and get it over with.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think it looks bad,” Kylie says quickly, and in the back of her mind thinks that sounded just a little too urgent. “It’s just- different!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but different-good or different-bad? ‘Cause you’re not saying.”</p>
<p>“Why do you care?”</p>
<p>“So different-bad.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s-“ Kylie stares again, the chopped and slightly uneven edges, and how it kind of flares out a little at the ends. Pictures the same person she’s known all her life with her straight long simple hair to the bright eyes staring her down right now. How she can see more of her jaw, and the shape of her face, everything somehow more prominent, even down to her eyelashes. Everything feels different, and it kind of makes her nervous, the heat in the air closing in around her. “It suits you. Really. It looks good, dude.”</p>
<p>“...Really?” Stacey still looks dubious, staring at her, and Kylie wonders if she knows that she hasn’t said everything. Well, so long as she can believe that it’s nothing malicious. Because it really isn’t. Luckily, Stacey relaxes a little. “Well, thanks.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, seriously,” Kylie says, then lets herself smile. “It’s nice.”</p>
<p>“You know I cut it myself?” Stacey says as she sets off again, and Kylie joins back in the rhythm of her walk easily.</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” There’s something akin to pride in her voice then, just slightly. When Kylie looks over, she’s smirking. “My parents had no idea.”</p>
<p>Kylie snorts. “I used to do the same, until my dad threatened to hang me.”</p>
<p>“Your hair’s so much more fun than mine,” Stacey says, gazing almost longingly at the strands of red escaping Kylie’s forever trusty hat. Kylie has no idea why. “Trust me, if you had my hair for as long as I did, you’d cut it all off too.”</p>
<p>“You will <em>not</em> tell me about hair troubles,” Kylie says firmly, staring at her friend. “Not until you’ve broken at least three brushes.”</p>
<p>“You can break brushes?”</p>
<p>“<em>That’s</em> what I mean,” Kylie says, shaking her head. It feels better now that they’re talking about it, and she doesn’t have to ignore all the thoughts in her head. Honestly, it doesn’t bother her as much anymore. It’s just Stacey, her same best friend, same as always.</p>
<p>Just, she looks really really nice now.</p>
<p>Kylie thinks about it when she gets home, collapsed on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. Maybe Stacey always looked nice, and she just didn’t realise. Or maybe she realised, but she didn’t <em>realise</em>, not in the same way. Which makes her feel bad, somehow. A haircut doesn’t change that much about someone. Or, not <em>this </em>much. Stacey was never bad before, Kylie never thought that, but- she’s just- so much better now.</p>
<p>Kylie rolls over on her bed and snatches her phone off the stand, ignoring the notifications and heading straight to her calendar. Stacey’s always teased her about having so much on there, from appointments to birthdays to deadlines, but it helps her keep track. And it’ll help her keep track again this time, for herself in the near future, when Stacey’s hair has grown out again. If it does. Whenever that comes, she can think back to this day, and see if her feelings are the same. See how long they’ve lasted. If they do.</p>
<p>Kylie types it in as plainly as she knows how.</p>
<p>
  <em>June 23<sup>rd</sup>. Stacey cut her hair. Got a crush?</em>
</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>july</strong>
</p>
<p>The fears for a summer straight out of hell end up not being unfounded, and Kylie is starting to wonder if Stacey’s constant grievances about climate change might finally be picked up by the rest of the town. Though, really, they only know how to get panicked about an issue, never how to actually solve it, so, that might not go too far.</p>
<p>Instead, she settles for setting up a fan on her bedside table, keeping it on nearly every moment she’s in there, and shifting it around the room to cover her whilst she works on getting summer homework out the way - or lazing around on her computer until probably too late. There’s always this lingering feeling in her that she should try and accomplish something in the spare weeks that the summer grants her, something to boost her college applications and set her up for success in later life. But then it hits ninety-five degrees and she decides maybe another time.</p>
<p>The days always seem to blend into one another, July fading away into some dreamlike void, but Kylie doesn’t mind it so long as she gets to spend time with Stacey. Then they kind of exist in that timeless state together, and it always makes her calmer than anytime else.</p>
<p>“This is some fucking <em>bullshit</em>!”</p>
<p>Kylie throws down the controller against the floor, before pressing her hands against her face and groaning loudly. The ‘Restart Level’ box flashing on the screen only adds insult to injury, and she’d rather be a million miles away from the TV at this moment. Any longer and that controller’s going to end up through the screen.</p>
<p>“I told you, right?” Stacey says, leg swaying as it dangles off Kylie’s chair, the rest of her body pulled up. “It’s so fucking stupid. Nobody could beat that shit without like, at least three hours grinding.”</p>
<p>“Dude, I’m so fucking over this shit,” Kylie moans, sitting back up and grabbing the controller, a wave of both relief and irritation as she hits the ‘Back to menu’ button. “You wanna play something together? I need some stress relief.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure.” Stacey slides off the bed, reaching over to grab the other controller from beside the TV. She’s probably not suffering as much since Stacey always wears shorts in the summer, whereas Kylie refuses to give anyone a reason to see that much of her skin, as hot it might be outside. Though, in a way, they seem to suit Stacey better with her short hair. Somehow? That probably doesn’t even make sense.</p>
<p>“What do you wanna do for food?” she asks, as Stacey scoots over to her, sitting cross legged as the game boots up. “Pizza?”</p>
<p>“I mean, sure,” she says, stretching one of her arms to the side. “But do you wanna go get it? I feel like I kinda wanna walk.”</p>
<p>“Go walk alone,” Kylie mutters, sparing a glance to her window, which doesn’t seem to be doing anything for the heat despite how much it’s been forced open.</p>
<p>“Come on, dude. It’s not that far.”</p>
<p>“It’s far enough,” Kylie says. Right now, that fan is her new best friend as far as she’s concerned.</p>
<p>“You’d be cooler if you took off your hat,” Stacey says, selecting their usual options from the multiplayer starting screen.</p>
<p>“I’m not gonna take it off,” Kylie says, hammering the left button until it lands on the character she wants.</p>
<p>“Come on, dude, I’ve seen your hair. It’s fine.”</p>
<p>“I wear this when I <em>sleep</em>,” Kylie mutters. “It’s nothing to do with you being here.”</p>
<p>“You’re gonna get heatstroke, one day,” Stacey says, leaning to the side to rest on Kylie’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Heatstroke or not, I’m still gonna make you eat dirt,” Kylie says, grinning as the game start screen flashes up. Leaning back into Stacey, she pushes against her in an attempt to make her lose balance. It half works, as Stacey falls to the other side, using her elbow to stop herself from completely falling into the carpet.</p>
<p>“That’s totally cheating, dude!!” she exclaims, tilted and still mashing buttons whilst flailing out one of her legs to try and land a kick. Kylie’s sure that these kind of games are about who wins the fight outside the screen more than anything else.</p>
<p>After many many many match points, and Stacey finally giving in to let Kylie win victory with a one-point lead, she finally finds the energy to pull herself off the floor, stretching out. Looking outside she can see the ever-persistent sun, though it’s looking more tired than it did earlier in the day. It’ll set, but she feels like time isn’t going to move. They’re stuck in this moment until the end of summer, and that’s weeks and weeks away yet.</p>
<p>“So you wanna go get that pizza?” Stacey asks, rolling her shoulders as she stands up too.</p>
<p>“Still not really,” Kylie says, but thinks maybe, it’s late enough now the heat won’t melt her bones inside her skin. “But fine. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>These nights are always the kind she likes the best, as much as they’re exceedingly ordinary. Stacey has been sleeping over at her house for long over a decade now, and Kylie the same, but the fun of it never seems to wear off. She’s sure she’s heard people say they get sick of each other when they spend too much time together, but that’s never really happened with Stacey. They fight, sure, but that isn’t because she’s sick of her. More just because she likes to be right. And there’s nothing wrong with that, really.</p>
<p>The haze covering the sky seems to layer itself over her mind too, and Kylie walks with Stacey in a comfortable silence, the streets filled with that same eeriness they always have in the summer when they lack their usual snow. The town won’t feel like itself until late autumn, and by then, Kylie will have long forgotten summer ever existed.</p>
<p>“You know the other pizza place, the one by the clinic?” Stacey says, making a half-attempt to walk along the curb of the sidewalk, sneakers stepping a little clumsily. Kylie stays safe on the main path.</p>
<p>“The one that shut down last year?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she says, stumbling a little before regaining her balance. “I heard it closed ‘cause they were using rats for the pepperoni.”</p>
<p>“That is <em>not </em>true.”</p>
<p>“I mean, would you be able to tell the difference?” Stacey glances to the side for just a second in a way Kylie is sure she thinks is clever.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Kylie says, frowning. “It’s a totally different animal.”</p>
<p>“But you don’t know what rat tastes like.”</p>
<p>“No, but I can tell the difference between chicken and beef, so I can tell the difference between rat and whatever else.”</p>
<p>“Well, you say that,” Stacey slows down, grinning at her. “But you don’t really know.”</p>
<p>“You better not just be saying this to try and make me get a pizza without meat.”</p>
<p>“I just thought it was pretty fucked up.” Stacey moves back from the edge of the curb to step back alongside her, and Kylie shakes her head at her friend’s mischievous grin.</p>
<p>“It’s not going to work.”</p>
<p>Stacey’s stupid stories have absolutely <em>no</em> hold over her, because it doesn’t make any sense that they’d use rats for pepperoni – really, are they going to go through all the trouble of preparing them? might as well just use an actual pig or a cow or whatever it is they even use to make pepperoni – but yet when she gets to the pizza place, she finds herself ordering mozzarella instead. Stacey grins at her without a word as they wait, and Kylie stares straight ahead, watching some guy in the back dip fries into oil.</p>
<p>Summer’s a good time to get things done, but, really. She’s not an adult yet, she thinks as she sits across from Stacey, watching her pour soda into a cup, the light of the setting sun creating a triangle across her shoulder and arm. They have forever, at least for now, she thinks fondly. The time is still infinite.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>october</strong>
</p>
<p>Somewhere around half two on a Saturday afternoon, Stacey texts her.</p>
<p>They’re all pretty accustomed to impromptu texts to meet up, to the point that Kylie no longer finds it weird to have her friends burst into her room no matter what time it is. Especially Stacey, considering they’re next door neighbours and best friends. So there’s no reason for her to find it weird that Stacey randomly wants to meet up and go somewhere, telling Kylie to bring her bike. She’d almost finished with her homework, anyway.</p>
<p>On her way out, she manages a run in with her mother, who reminds her to take a scarf if she’s not going to wear a coat. Kylie doesn’t really think it’s cold enough for either yet; it’s only October, and things can get far worse yet, but she doesn’t really want to bother with an argument, and drags it from the cupboard before taking her leave. The wind catches her the moment she steps out the door, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea.</p>
<p>Stacey is already walking towards her from her yard, pulling her bike alongside with her, and Kylie hurries to grab hers from the garage, feeling Stacey’s eyes on her as she slams it shut.</p>
<p>“You okay, dude?” she asks as Stacey sets off at a brisk pace, hurrying to catch up.</p>
<p>“Mm, I guess,” her friend mutters in reply, though she sounds more pissed off than upset, which is probably a good thing. Kylie really doesn’t need to see her friend get dragged through another My Chemical Romance phase. “Just- you know how it is. My mom.”</p>
<p>“Sucks, dude,” Kylie says, because she can’t really think of anything else to say. It always feels like it would help a lot if she could relate, but she can’t really, because as much as her parents are annoying, they’re nothing like Stacey’s messed up family.</p>
<p>“Really sucks,” Stacey sighs, then pauses for a second, turning around to look at Kylie. It’s been a few months since her haircut, and she’s let it grow out a little, the strands just reaching the edge of her scarf. It still suits her, though. Still looks nice, in Kylie’s opinion. “Can we go somewhere?”</p>
<p>“Where?”</p>
<p>“I dunno, just-“ Stacey pulls a face. “Somewhere.”</p>
<p>Kylie glances at her bike. “You just wanna ride for a bit? It’s still early, so we could go pretty far, if you want.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Stacey turns around again. “Yeah, sure.”</p>
<p>Kylie lets Stacey take the lead once they’re on the bikes, peddling just a little slower to let herself fall behind. She doesn’t know where they’re going, and kind of hopes it’s not <em>too</em> far since her dad’ll be mad, but then also, she doesn’t really mind. Talking is nice, but it’s good sometimes to just be in silence next to each other, especially when bad things are happening. Well, Kylie’s more of a venter, but Stacey likes to brood sometimes, so Kylie lets her. But only until a certain point. Once she starts getting that ‘pain is eternal there is no hope’ look in her eye, Kylie has to step in.</p>
<p>Stacey’s pace doesn’t really increase until they’ve left the town, travelling down a road next to the slowly dying trees. It seems like a good spot to peacefully drift, watching the autumn colours, but apparently that’s not what Stacey’s in the mood for. The moment the oranges and reds surround them, she kicks up the speed, and Kylie has to lean forwards to allow herself to do the same.</p>
<p>It’s a weird feeling, pedalling on past all the trees and watching the tyres in front of her skid over the yellow and brown leaves, not stopping for a moment. She always thought Stacey kind of liked sentimental sights like this, but right now she doesn’t seem interested. It’s like she’s trying to escape something, in a way. That thought makes Kylie just a little sad, though she still wouldn’t know what to say.</p>
<p>It’s the same feeling when she drifts slightly to move beside Stacey, wheels still whirring fast, and sees what she’s sure is the glint of a tear running down her friend’s face. Though, when she tries to look again, she can’t tell, the red of the trees too bright behind her. Kylie tries to think of something she could do, or say, when they finally stop, but figures that maybe, just being there is enough for now.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>november</strong>
</p>
<p>“We’re sharing, right?”</p>
<p>Kylie looks up from her phone, sat cross-legged at the top of her bed, already in her pyjamas. “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“You’ve got a lot of pillows on your side, dude.” Stacey crosses her arms, and Kylie rolls her eyes, shifting slightly and making a show of moving one pillow across to the left side of the bed.</p>
<p>“Happy now?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Stacey says, grinning, before she turns around, dropping down to her knees and rummaging through her bag. Kylie is convinced that she doesn’t even need to bring it anymore, since so many of her clothes have gotten mixed in with her own laundry over the years, to the point that Kylie has some tops she can’t even remember who the original owner was.</p>
<p>“There’s gonna be another storm tonight,” Kylie says, glancing from her phone to Stacey, half-scrolling through the forecast. “But still not that much snow.”</p>
<p>“I told you, it’s global warming, dude,” Stacey says, still turned around as she tugs off her t-shirt and sweater in one go, and Kylie turns her gaze back firmly to her phone, trying but failing to focus on her screen. It shouldn’t be awkward, because she’s seen Stacey change in front of her a million times. It probably just seems different now because her hair doesn’t cover her back anymore, so Kylie can see her bra strap and like, that’s- normal to be embarrassed about. Isn’t it?</p>
<p>She keeps her eyes fixed on her phone until Stacey is beside the bed, dressed in an oversized t-shirt that doesn’t match with her pyjama bottoms. Kylie wants to make a comment about how Stacey never seems to have matching parts to any outfit she wears, but with the sudden nerves still lingering, she holds back.</p>
<p>“I dunno if I’m even that tired yet,” Stacey says, sliding in next to her, and Kylie shifts just a little closer to the wall, trying to remember how to act normal. “I woke up at like twelve.”</p>
<p>“You know if you sleep in at the weekends, you’ll still be tired during the week,” Kylie can’t help but point out, watching as Stacey repositions herself to rest her head on the pillow, holding her phone up above her.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but if I woke up early, I’d be tired anyway.”</p>
<p>“That’s why you go to sleep earlier.”</p>
<p>“That’s never gonna happen,” Stacey says with a snort, and Kylie raises an eyebrow as she opens up a tacky looking mobile app. There is no part of her that can understand the fun Stacey finds in mindless games that require you to wait for four hours between literally any gameplay, but so long as she isn’t spending money, Kylie supposes she can let it slide. Stacey doesn’t move her eyes from the game as she keeps speaking. “Maybe we should stay up all night and watch the storm. That’s like, horror movie stuff, right? Everyone dead by morning.”</p>
<p>“I’d rather not get murdered.”</p>
<p>“To be fair, it’s probably too cold for any murderers to get far.”</p>
<p>“It could be a demon,” Kylie says thoughtfully, glancing at the darkness outside her window, the snowfall still gentle and unassuming. “You could totally get killed by a Colorado ice demon or something.”</p>
<p>Stacey shoots her a suspicious glance, muttering ‘bullshit’ and Kylie can’t help but laugh when she sees her open up a new tab and type in ‘killer Colarado monsters’. It’s worse, somehow, that it actually yields a good few results.</p>
<p>Luckily, as much as it would be fun to find out what evil lurks outside her house (other than Cartman), Stacey falls asleep within the next thirty minutes, phone forgotten beside her. Kylie doesn’t even realise until she glances over, ready to show Stacey a dumb dog video that had popped up on her feed, only to find her friend already lost to sleep, breathing slow in a way Kylie knows isn’t faking.</p>
<p>As creepy as it makes her feel, it’s nice to have a chance to stare, considering Kylie is usually the first asleep. Her hair is still short, but it’s always getting longer. It’s hard to tell the difference when they see each other every day, but Kylie knows when she thinks back to the summer that it’s grown a lot. She feels like she’s used to it now, though she still can’t erase that shift that had occurred on that first June morning.</p>
<p>Kylie moves back to her phone, scrolling through her pictures and going back to last spring, when her hair was still long. Looking at those photos, even though her hair is long like it always was before, Kylie still feels her new feeling seeping through. Like, the pretty shape of her eyes and face are still the same, even though before she’d never noticed. Isn’t that weird, though? How could one haircut change so much?</p>
<p>Kylie turns her attention back to her sleeping friend, comparing the two. Same person, different hair. Though the one in front of her feels more real. Retrospectively she can think that the Stacey in her pictures is pretty, but the one right now is all she’s focused on. Part of her wants to reach out and touch her friend’s hair, the fineness of the uneven ends between her fingers. And then after that, she could kiss her.</p>
<p>No, wait- that’s weird. It was weird before that but that last one particularly crossed a line. Kylie shifts away from her friend slightly, feeling somewhat closed in between Stacey and the wall. Like there’s no way to get the distance she needs. Though it shouldn’t feel awkward. They’re best friends, and they’re both girls, so it’s normal to share beds, it’s normal that Stacey gets changed in front of her, it’s normal to be this close. It’s been like this for years and it’s never bothered her. It’s friendship. They’re friends. <em>Friends</em>.</p>
<p>Besides, even if by some magical force of nature Stacey ends up liking girls, it’s not like she’s ever going to turn her attention to Kylie. She flicks across to a picture of them both, frowning at her own face. She’s so- basic. Boring. The only thing unique about her is her hair, and that’s just one whole mess. Stacey deserves a girl who’s all bright and blonde and cute and nice. Or- a boy like that, more likely. Or anyone not her, really. Which is depressing, but. It’s probably realistic.</p>
<p>Before she can get too down about that whilst her best friend is lying <em>right next to </em>her, she pushes the thoughts away and presses her eyes shut, willing herself to just think about Monday and the homework she has due, the lesson she’ll go to, and other boring things. Keeps her mind off who’ll be with her in class, and on the bus with her, and basically every part of the day.</p>
<p>But it all proves futile, since she dreams about her, anyway.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>december</strong>
</p>
<p>As she gets older, Kylie finds that she doesn’t really care as much about holidays. Maybe part of it is to do with always having been excluded from Christmas, and another part Stacey’s constant dismissal of the importance of birthdays, but now she finds herself sat alone on New Year’s, not really caring about anything.</p>
<p>It’s way too cold outside to go to any of the events, and most of them just consist of adults getting drunk anyway, so she’s not too bothered about the lack of plans. It’s only around half seven, when she finishes her book and leans back on her bed to stare at the leftover Christmas lights across the street flashing in the darkness does she think maybe she should do something. Just as she’s about to grab her phone, a message pings through.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Hows ur new years going’</em>
</p>
<p>Kylie smiles just a little, texting back a ‘<em>honestly, kind of boring’</em>, before following up with a <em>‘what about you?</em>’. She knows it won’t be long before they make plans to meet up, like they always do whenever they both have nothing to do. Or just, whenever, really.</p>
<p><em>‘Shit,’</em> comes back after maybe a second or two, and then almost immediately after, ‘<em>Really shit’.</em></p>
<p>Kylie’s smile morphs into a frown, about to ask what the problem is, before she deletes it and instead just asks Stacey if she wants to come over. It’s the easier option, but also probably the better one, since things are always harder through text. And, she wants Stacey to come over. Her parents left twenty minutes ago and it’s just her and Izzy left in the house, though they haven’t really interacted yet. Spending the night with her best friend sounds like a lot more fun than zero-communication babysitting.</p>
<p>It takes maybe less than five minutes for Kylie to hear the knock of the door downstairs, before it clicks open and shut. Kylie pulls herself off her bed to go meet her friend, pushing stray strands of hair back under her hat as she descends the stairs. Instead of by the door like she’d been expecting, she finds Stacey in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water from the sink.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Kylie greets, stepping into the room, and Stacey shuts off the tap, turning towards her.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” she says, shaking her head. Her cheeks and nose are red, and Kylie doubts it’s from the ten seconds of cold between their houses. “I just- I need to sober up. I’m not drunk, I mean, I was just- being stupid. Made myself feel worse.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it, dude,” Kylie says, frowning as Stacey takes a few large mouthfuls from the glass. “Something happen?”</p>
<p>“Just fucking hate my mom,” Stacey says, glaring down at the water, then sniffs. “And I hate New Year’s too. It’s so fucking stupid. It’s just another day, get over it. Who cares what fucking year it is, Jesus.”</p>
<p>“It’s just one of those things, I guess,” Kylie says, watching as Stacey refills her cup, putting the tap on max and filling up the cup in two seconds, water splashing over the side. “Don’t choke, dude.”</p>
<p>“What are you doing tonight, anyway?” Stacey asks, only taking a sip this time, before resting the glass on the arm crossed against her chest. “You gonna meet with the others?”</p>
<p>“Nah, I can’t really be bothered.”</p>
<p>Stacey looks up at her. “Mind if I chill here for a bit?”</p>
<p>“Stay as long as you want,” Kylie says, feeling some weird sense of pride knowing that her friend is seeking refuge at her house, that she’s helping somehow, even if she doesn’t know how to do anything the ‘right’ way. “Izzy’s here, but I doubt she’ll join us. And my parents said they won’t be back before noon tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, my parents are going out too, but I couldn’t wait the twenty or whatever minutes that was gonna take,” Stacey said, rolling her eyes. “It’s like, adults always have these parties like they’re meant to be fun, and then they spend an hour before they go yelling at each other about stupid shit. What’s the point?”</p>
<p>“Who knows, dude.”</p>
<p>“I like it better here anyway,” Stacey says then, smiling just a little. Kylie feels a pang in her chest, and smiles back.</p>
<p>“We can watch a movie or something, if you want. I’m pretty sure we can get take-out too, they should be open...”</p>
<p>It’s always times where Kylie isn’t sure if things are going to be good that they always turn out best, and it’s no different that night too. Somewhere around 2am, sat on her floor on her phone whilst Stacey listens to some weird vaporwave remixes of pop songs and sings along like she’s lost all capability to care, Kylie realises that it’s really never been the celebrations she’s cared about. Stacey’s right – a day’s just a day, and there’s nothing special about that.</p>
<p>But if being together like this is just another day, then she’s perfectly fine with that.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>april</strong>
</p>
<p>Rainy weather always puts her in a shitty mood.</p>
<p>Well, it might be the noisy rainfall against the window of the bus that’s pissing her off, or it might be the fact that she’s sat alone, seat next to her occupied only by her bag. Or it might be because of the long string of messages on her phone from last night, confused and frustrated.</p>
<p>It shouldn’t have even been a big deal. Stacey wanted to copy her Physics homework, and Kylie wouldn’t let her. But she’d offered to help. Just not straight up cheating, because Stacey won’t learn anything like that, and they still have a final exam at the end of the year no matter how good her homework grades are. Kylie had told her that, and Stacey had acted like it was the biggest betrayal of history. Such an overreaction.</p>
<p>And even <em>then</em>, Kylie had been willing to forgive her best friend for being over the top, and lazy in her studies, until Stacey had decided to skip taking the bus. As in, just straight up avoiding her. That’s just- petty. It’s petty. Can’t they just talk like normal people??</p>
<p>Kylie keeps scowling as she watches the rain roll down the window. It’s not like she’s mad at Stacey, just- mad at her stupid actions. She doesn’t even <em>need </em>to copy, she’s smart enough to understand, she just doesn’t try. So annoying. Kylie wishes sometimes she could just grab her best friend and shake some sense into her. And also grab her and kiss her, but that’s something else. Unless it’s possible to do both at the same time. Well, even if it <em>was</em>-</p>
<p>Kylie remains pissed off the entire of the journey, and up until the ring of the first bell, when she realises Stacey still isn’t here. The empty seat makes her annoyed, but then just a little worried. She sends a message before the teacher arrives, just a quick ‘<em>where are you dude</em>??’, but there’s no reply until third period. And the reply is just ‘<em>home’</em>. All Kylie’s other questions of ‘<em>are you sick</em>?’ and ‘<em>are you still mad at me?</em>’ and ‘<em>I’ll talk you through it tonight if you want but even then you know you’ll lose a percent for lateness right??</em>’ – all ignored.</p>
<p>By the time school lets out, the rain still going strong, Kylie’s anger has fallen significantly. She’s still a <em>little</em> irritated, because, well, that’s just how she is, but mostly she just wants to make sure Stacey is okay. Maybe the homework thing actually really upset her? Though Kylie still isn’t going to let her copy. There’s really no point.</p>
<p>Kylie unfolds her umbrella before she’s even fully stepped off the bus, watching Kenna and Cartman in front of her go their own ways. Days with just them are never as fun. Once Stacey was out for a week with flu, and Kylie had never been so bored, nor so sure she would’ve killed Cartman with one more day without Stacey to hold her back. Kenna is okay, but- she’s not Stacey.</p>
<p>Kylie heads straight to Stacey’s house from the bus stop, knowing she can get away with at least an hour or so before her parents start questioning. She raises her hand to knock, then stops. From inside the house, there’s the muffled sound of arguing, the loud voices making her falter. Not just because it would be insanely awkward to knock and interrupt a spousal dispute, but also- Stacey might not be around, if her parents are at it again. Kylie’s gathered by now that Stacey prefers to camp out at her house during those times, but obviously she’s not there now.</p>
<p>Kylie takes a step back, tilting her umbrella to get a better look at Stacey’s room. The lights are off, though that doesn’t <em>have</em> to mean she’s not there. She could just be hiding away in the dark, which is a totally possibility, but somehow Kylie doesn’t really feel like she’s there right now. Call it best friend intuition or something. Well, if she’s wrong, she can always come back when hopefully the house is a little quieter.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>She’s not wrong, though she kind of wishes she was.</p>
<p>As soon as she catches sight of Stacey, Kylie can’t help but frown, because it’s raining hard and her best friend isn’t even wearing a <em>coat</em>, which is stupid even if she’s sat under a tree. From the way Stacey keeps wiping away the water on her phone, Kylie can tell it’s not offering much protection.</p>
<p>When the sound of her boots trudging through the mud is loud enough to be heard, Stacey stills, head still down whilst letting the rain fall freely on her phone. Kylie comes to a stop next to her, holding her umbrella so it covers them both.</p>
<p>“...You know, she forgot to even collect it today,” she starts after a moment, and Stacey’s shoulders huff.</p>
<p>“Great. Just my luck.”</p>
<p>“You’re going to get sick out here like this.”</p>
<p>“Probably.”</p>
<p>Kylie sighs, then holds out the umbrella. “Hold this.”</p>
<p>Stacey finally looks up at her. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Just hold it,” Kylie says, rolling her eyes, and Stacey drops her phone into her lap, stretching out her arm to hold the umbrella up between them, though it doesn’t really work since she’s still sat down. Kylie strips off her sweater as quickly as she can manage, briskly pushing her hat back down afterwards. She tosses it towards Stacey, who just stares at her.</p>
<p>“Put it on, dude,” Kylie says after a few seconds, taking the umbrella back. It’s a little colder without it, but she has cover, and her shirt is long sleeved and pretty thick. Better than just a t-shirt, seriously, is Stacey <em>trying</em> to get pneumonia?</p>
<p>“...Thanks,” she says, pulling it over her head, and Kylie has a not-so-rare moment of reflecting on her hair growth. It’s just about at her shoulders now, slowly gaining back its length. The rain makes it look longer, too. Kylie still thinks it’s nice, though.</p>
<p>“Are you still mad at me?” she asks then, crouching down beside her friend, the patter of the rain on the umbrella loud above them. Stacey goes back to avoiding her gaze, staring out over the water.</p>
<p>“No. I knew you’d probably say no anyway.”</p>
<p>“We can still do it tonight,” Kylie says, shrugging. “The offer’s still there, if you want it.”</p>
<p>There’s no reply, and Kylie shifts to sit more comfortably next to her friend, even if it’s probably going to get her jeans wet to be on the floor like this. Stacey stares down at her own shoes, frowning.</p>
<p>“You gonna talk to me?” Kylie asks after a few more seconds pass. Stacey sighs.</p>
<p>“What do you want me to say? That I’m stupid?”</p>
<p>“You’re not stupid,” Kylie says. “Just- too pessimistic at times. One homework isn’t the end of the world.”</p>
<p>“It’s not even the homework,” Stacey mutters, voice low. “It’s- everything. I’m just sick of it. I’m sick of everyone.”</p>
<p>Kylie recalls the shouting that had travelled past Stacey’s door. “Not everyone is like that.”</p>
<p>“Sure as hell feels like it.”</p>
<p>“Are you sick of me?” Kylie asks then, raising an eyebrow. Stacey finally looks up, shifting her eyes towards her.</p>
<p>“No. Though- sometimes I wonder if you’re getting sick of me.”</p>
<p>The judgment is so wildly off that Kylie almost laughs just from the absurdity of it. After all they’ve been through, Stacey could come to her with a dead body and Kylie would help her find a ditch. “Dude, no way. Not at all. Like- not even slightly.” The image of Stacey asleep beside her in bed drifts to her mind, and Kylie can feel the longing to have her next to her at all times as strong as ever. “I’d never get sick of you.”</p>
<p>“Even though I do dumb stuff?” Stacey frowns at her. “Stuff like this?”</p>
<p>“You do dumb stuff sometimes, but so do I. So does <em>everyone</em>, dude. Nobody is perfect.”</p>
<p>“Says you.”</p>
<p>“Uh, says me? You really think I’m perfect?” Kylie scoffs at the thought. “Spend five minutes around Cartman and you’ll know that isn’t true.”</p>
<p>“Cartman is full of shit,” Stacey says, looking sad at this. “She always talks shit about your hair. But I love your hair, dude. It’s awesome.”</p>
<p>Kylie flushes, though it isn’t with anger, like it would be if literally anyone would have said that. “Even if I agree she’s full of shit, I still think I rise to it too much. You told me that once, right? That’s why she does it to me, and not you or Kenna. I get wound up too much. I always get dragged into a fight.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Stacey agrees. “But that’s cooler than skipping a day of school because of homework.”</p>
<p>“But it isn’t just about the homework.”</p>
<p>“It’s not just about the homework,” Stacey confirms again, shifting her head to rest on her knees, eyes back out to the pond. “Ugh. I wish I could just stay here forever. I wish time would stop.”</p>
<p>“Even though you didn’t bring a jacket <em>or </em>an umbrella?”</p>
<p>“Nobody uses umbrellas, dude. They’re lame.”</p>
<p>At that, Kylie quickly yanks the umbrella away from Stacey, letting the rain fall freely on her friend’s head. “They’re lame?”</p>
<p>“Stop- dude-“ Stacey makes a grab for the umbrella, but Kylie leaps up, taking it with her and holding up her arm pretending that she’s even a centimetre taller. “This is <em>your</em> sweater that’s gonna get wet-“</p>
<p>Kylie takes a deft step back as Stacey makes another grab, but she’s grinning now, face leagues brighter than it had been a few minutes ago. As trained as Kylie is in basketball, Stacey’s a star football player, and easily grabs the pole of the umbrella back, yanking it between the two of them. It’s not a great position to keep either of them dry, and Kylie can feel the water running down her back.</p>
<p>“Come back to mine tonight,” she says, stepping closer and repositioning the umbrella to cover both of them. Their faces are so close that Kylie can see the droplets on Stacey’s eyelashes, but it makes her feel brave this time, rather than embarrassed. “I’ll help you with your homework.”</p>
<p>“You would never get a guy with that as a pick up line.” Stacey snickers at her, corner of her mouth tilted up. It breaks the moment of fantasy she was captured in, and Kylie rolls her eyes, setting off back to her house and feeling Stacey follow after her, safe under the umbrella.</p>
<p>The only thing Kylie wants to reply is: <em>Good</em>.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>june</strong>
</p>
<p>As soon as Stacey flips over the menu, Kylie lets her face contort into disgust.</p>
<p>“Really?” she asks, not even bothering to hide the judgement in her voice.</p>
<p>“What?” Stacey moves her eyes just above the top of the menu, blinking. “I just think it tastes better.”</p>
<p>“You’re not vegan,” Kylie says, eyes still narrowed. “Or lactose intolerant. Or like, anything that would justify getting ice cream without dairy in it.”</p>
<p>“It’s not <em>that</em> bad, dude,” Stacey says, shaking her head. “You should try it.”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, no way. What do they even make it out of if it’s not dairy?”</p>
<p>“I dunno.” Stacey looks thoughtful for a second, then seems to brush it off as not important, even though Kylie definitely thinks it is. “Just don’t judge it ‘til you try it.”</p>
<p>“I’m definitely going to judge you,” Kylie says, sighing in disappointment at her friend’s poor tastes. “Imagine if your poor kid self could see you right now, denying yourself the pleasure of real ice-cream.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think she’d mind,” Stacey says, then grins slightly. “Things change.”</p>
<p>“That’s my line,” Kylie mutters, turning her attention back to her drink and watching the ice cubes melt. It’s kind of a fake statement anyway, because even though things <em>do </em>change, the most important things always seem to stay the same. Like, maybe Stacey is changing her preferences now and liking terrible soy ice-cream or whatever they have stashed away in a dusty corner in the back, but they’re still here <em>together</em>. That’s always the same, and Kylie thinks that matters more. And, even if the ingredients are different, Stacey still orders mint, and Kylie strawberry. It doesn’t change <em>that</em> much. It probably never can.</p>
<p>That’s kind of been her saving sentiment the past few months, honestly.</p>
<p>“I still think it’s kind of too early for ice-cream, though,” Stacey says, and Kylie looks up, pulling herself out of her drifting thoughts. Stacey is leaning her head against her right hand, gazing out the window with a kind of half-lazy, half-contemplative stare. Her hair’s long enough to reach her wrist now. “It’s only June.”</p>
<p>“Nearly July,” Kylie points out. “Almost the summer again.”</p>
<p>“Great,” Stacey says, rolling her eyes.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Kylie scolds, kicking her friend’s legs lightly under the table with the toe of her sneaker. “You had fun last year, right? It wasn’t bad.”</p>
<p>“I hardly even remember, dude,” Stacey says, and Kylie tries not to let the disappointment of that statement get to her, even though it does. Apparently it doesn’t go unnoticed, as Stacey changes her expression slightly. “Uh, but the parts I remember were fun. With you, I mean.”</p>
<p>“Keep a diary or something, this time,” Kylie says, grinning when Stacey returns the kick. “That way you’ll remember life isn’t <em>all</em> bad.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and then I can hand it in to the teacher on our first day back, and she’ll give me a shiny sticker for my hard work.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I’ll give you a sticker every time you say something that isn’t glass-half-empty,” Kylie says. “Positively reinforce you into it or something.”</p>
<p>“Sounds just like what those guys go to five years of psychology college for,” Stacey says, then snorts at herself, though Kylie is seriously considering it. Before she can think it through too much though, a bored-looking guy a couple years older than them dumps their orders onto the table with a clink, and Kylie wonders instead what they look like to him. Probably just good friends, or something.</p>
<p>Well, he’s not <em>wrong.</em></p>
<p>“At least try some,” Stacey insists, gesturing to her ice-cream, which Kylie does have to admit, looks surprisingly normal. “It tastes basically the same.”</p>
<p>“If it’s the same, what’s even the point?”</p>
<p>“Saves cows?”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to kill them to milk them.”</p>
<p>“It’s a whole thing, dude,” Stacey says, shaking her head. “Just try. There’s a bit here I didn’t touch yet. No germs.”</p>
<p>Kylie honestly doesn’t really care about sharing germs with Stacey, considering they’re so close that she’s kind of sure they’ve already got full immunity against each other, but the gesture is touching nevertheless. “…Okay, fine.”</p>
<p>Leaning over the table with her spoon sunk in her friend’s ice cream whilst she grins back at her feels somewhat less like a ‘just-friends’ thing, but she still can’t really tell. She can hardly even focus on the taste when she leans back into her own seat.</p>
<p>“It’s good, right?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Kylie says, and figures it’s not really a lie, since it wasn’t bad enough that she had to spit it out. “I’m still sticking to my possibly-cow-murdering ice-cream, though.”</p>
<p>“It takes time,” Stacey says, shrugging. Kylie is ready to retort again when her phone buzzes against the table, and she looks down in confusion. She’d told her parents she was going out after school with Stacey, who is right here and therefore also won’t be messaging her, she has Cartman blocked and Kenna doesn’t even <em>have</em> a phone-</p>
<p>When she taps on the screen, it becomes a lot more obvious when she realises it’s not a text, but a reminder. A reminder from exactly one year ago today.</p>
<p>Kylie looks up, watching as Stacey stays focused on her ice-cream. Her hair has gotten a lot longer than it was a year ago, left untouched since then. But even if it’s closer to before, Kylie’s feelings haven’t changed. Well, she didn’t think they were going to, honestly, but it’s good just to make sure they were <em>actually</em> for Stacey, and not just her new haircut.</p>
<p>“Hey, so,” Kylie starts. “I have something to tell you.”</p>
<p>“Mm?” Stacey looks up, spoon in her mouth. “What?”</p>
<p>“Okay, so.” She glances to her phone, then back at Stacey, who just waits with a curious face. It’s harder than she thought to say. “So. I wanted to say that- just so- I mean, just so we’re on the same page here. I think I might- have some kind of a crush. On you. So, I mean. Yeah. That’s it?”</p>
<p>Stacey stares, spoon still in her hand, then blinks down at Kylie’s phone. “Dude, did you just receive a reminder to tell me <em>that</em>?”</p>
<p>It’s a complete curve ball, and Kylie blinks back, flushing. “Not really- I don’t know. Kind of?”</p>
<p>“Dude,” Stacey says, then laughs, though it’s a little shaky. “I can’t believe you set a reminder?”</p>
<p>“No- listen, okay, a year ago- you cut your hair, so-“ Kylie presses her eyes shut, trying to decipher if she should feel shut-down yet. She’ll give it a few more minutes before she decides heartbreak is inevitable. “You cut your hair, and it looked nice, and- I don’t know. My feelings changed? But I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just…because of that.”</p>
<p>“My hair?”</p>
<p>“Yes, your hair.”</p>
<p>“I thought you didn’t like my hair,” Stacey says, eyes watching a drop of ice-cream roll down the glass.</p>
<p>“I <em>told</em> you I liked it.”</p>
<p>“I thought you were lying.”</p>
<p>“If it looked like shit, I would’ve told you.”</p>
<p>Stacey takes a strand of it from her shoulder, twirling it between her fingers. “Uh, so. Are you a lesbian?”</p>
<p>Not finishing her ice-cream before starting this whole conversation is starting to feel like a really bad idea, and Kylie stares at the melting scoops in front of her, feeling both indignant and humiliated as she presses her spoon down to the bottom of the glass. “I don’t know what I am. I just thought I should tell you now that I’m sure. Do- do what you want with it, whatever.”</p>
<p>“Oh. I thought you might not be serious.”</p>
<p>“I <em>am</em> serious.”</p>
<p>Stacey’s eyes don’t meet hers. “Well. Um. That’s cool, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Should I just leave?” Kylie asks in exasperation, face burning. “Like I go home and we pretend none of this ever happened and never talk about it again?”</p>
<p>“What- no!” Stacey looks almost panicked as she finally moves her head up, frowning. “I mean- it’s cool because it’s good! I mean- I wasn’t expecting you to say- it, but. It’s good. I always assumed you were- I don’t know. Not?”</p>
<p>“Does it have to have a label?” Kylie asks, still feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t want to like…get it wrong.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, I like labels,” Stacey says, then, “I always thought I’m not straight either.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“You know, after I got this haircut, Cartman kept saying ‘hey Stacey, you totally look like a lesbian now’, and I kept wanting to be like ‘yeah, so what if I am? Shut up, fatass’.”</p>
<p>“You should’ve said that,” Kylie says, wistfully thinking of a reality where she isn’t the only one calling Cartman a fatass on a daily basis. Everyone is too <em>passive</em>. “But, anyway. You’re not sure.”</p>
<p>“No!” Stacey bursts out again, and Kylie stares at her. “I’m not- I mean, I am, I just- I don’t know if I like <em>every</em> girl, or just you.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to like every girl to be a lesbian-“ Kylie starts, shaking her head, then stops. “Wait, what did you just say?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“You just said-“</p>
<p>“About you?” Stacey asks, frowning. “I thought you knew. I thought that’s why you were telling me?”</p>
<p>“What- no? What?”</p>
<p>“I thought it was like, just one of those things? Most people know.”</p>
<p>“<em>I </em>never knew! You never told me!”</p>
<p>“I thought I was just being stupid! Or like, a phase or something?”</p>
<p>“And I wasted a year worrying about this,” Kylie says, sighing hard as she slumps down slightly in the booth. Belatedly, she takes a spoonful of melted ice-cream and shoves it into her mouth, before blinking and looking up again. “So we both feel the same way?”</p>
<p>“I mean, we normally do,” Stacey says, then grins, sitting up straighter in her seat.</p>
<p>“Except when it comes to what our ice-cream is made out of, apparently” Kylie points out, then smiles back, feeling kind of nervous and kind of not real. This isn’t exactly how she’d imagined things going back when she’d made that note on her phone, and it’s a lot better than the alternative of living out the rest of her teen years crying over an unrequited crush.</p>
<p>When Stacey leans over the table to press her lips against her own, Kylie can’t stop herself from grinning. She has a feeling the serving staff aren’t just going to think of them as ‘really close friends’ anymore.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>july</strong>
</p>
<p>At five in the morning, Kylie’s phone buzzes against the bed. It’s either that or the sudden flash of the screen that wakes her up, but she’s not so tired that she just rolls over and ignores it, picking it up and moving it closer to her face.</p>
<p>As soon as she sees the message of ‘<em>want to go for a walk today?’</em>, she grins, pulling herself up slightly. Outside the sky is still dark, but starting to brighten, and just that fills her with more energy somehow. If they end up tired later, they can just nap. Not like they have anything else to do. The whole summer is ahead of them.</p>
<p>She almost goes to text back ‘<em>now</em>?’, except she knows that Stacey wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t mean now, and instead messages ‘<em>be there in ten?</em>’, already swinging her legs over the side of her bed. It only takes her seven to finish getting ready, throwing her hair into a ponytail, leaving the hat behind in a rare burst of confidence. Times like these, she doesn’t bother lingering by the mirror for too long. Better things to look forward to. And she’s been feeling like that a lot recently.</p>
<p>Kylie doesn’t check her phone for a response, and she doesn’t need to, since as soon as she steps out the house she sees Stacey leaning against the fence, head down. Her face is shadowed by the dim light, but she looks calm, and Kylie smiles a little. She doesn’t know if her friend- girlfriend? has been up all night or just woke up early, but at least there’s no concerning reason for her being up this early.</p>
<p>“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks as she walks up beside Stacey, who looks up and grins at her, if a little tiredly. They’ll probably be taking that nap later.</p>
<p>“I was thinking,” she says simply. “Sorry if I woke you up.”</p>
<p>“Not really. I don’t mind.” Then she looks a little more closely, squinting in the dark blue light. “…You-“</p>
<p>“I cut it again,” Stacey says, putting a hand up to her hair, which is definitely a few inches shorter than it was yesterday. “I guess I could’ve gone for exactly a year, but. You’re the only one really keeping track anyway.”</p>
<p>“Oh, shut up,” Kylie says, rolling her eyes whilst Stacey snickers. “You wanted to walk?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Stacey says, lacing their hands together like it’s really no big deal. Maybe to her it isn’t. She’s been in long-term relationships before. For Kylie, she’s hoping this will be her first. And her last. “I didn’t really think of a place to go to though.”</p>
<p>“That’s fine. If we get bored we can just go to the park or something before all the little kids wake up.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Stacey says, setting off towards the rising sun. It’s quiet as they walk, and Kylie takes a moment just to reflect on how lucky she is to be able to just be with her hand connected with literally her favourite person in the world, then forces herself to stop before she can get too caught up in it. She feels like she’d never stop melting if she thought about it too much.</p>
<p>“Why’d you cut it again?” Kylie asks to distract herself, and Stacey’s eyes move to meet hers, bright and blue.</p>
<p>“I wanted to,” she says simply.</p>
<p>“Was it ‘cause I said I liked it short? Because you know I didn’t mean-“</p>
<p>“No, I know. I mean, a little bit was because of you. I can’t disappoint my girlfriend if she loves my short dos so much-“</p>
<p>“Oh, shut up,” Kylie says, pulling a face. “You know I like it however it is.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know that,” Stacey says, smiling, then pauses for a moment. “I was actually really sad the first time I cut it. It was like, complete impulse. Like 3am.”</p>
<p>“Oh. You didn’t tell me that.”</p>
<p>“I just felt weirdly…overwhelmed? Or something. Like, you know how I get. I felt like I couldn’t control anything happening to me, but like- if I changed my hair, then that’s <em>me</em>. Nobody else. I can do whatever I want with it.”</p>
<p>“I mean, that’s…good?” Kylie says, then frowns. “Were you sad this time too?”</p>
<p>“Nah. I’m happy with who I am now.” Stacey grins at her. “This time was just for fun.”</p>
<p>“Well,” Kylie says, tightening her grip on Stacey’s hand as she focuses on the path ahead. “I like it.”</p>
<p>“I like you too,” Stacey replies, and Kylie loses her battle not to fall deep into saccharine thoughts. The sun hasn’t even risen yet. How she’s screwed. Well, she’s sure she’ll get used to this too. Eventually.</p>
<p>Last time wasn’t so bad.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wrote this back in the summer as you can probably tell lol, and really wasn't ever intending on posting it &gt;&gt;<br/>well my friend said i should ..... and yesterday i cut off like 12 inches of hair for charity in secret so i thought!!!! why not!!!!!!! it's fitting lol ;w;<br/>also we discussed lots of names for fem stan but i couldn't stop thinking about how randy would be staceys mom and ....... shes got it going on<br/>i have a lot of fics that i'm working on that i wanted to post a while back but life got too hectic &gt;&lt; sorry!!!! please be patient i promise it won't be too much longer!!!!!<br/>WELL anyway thank you for reading!!!!!! i hope you liked it!!!!! ;w;;;</p>
<p>edit: kari/gayliency on insta drew some amazing fanart for this fic!!!!!!!!! you can check it out <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CIziWPSpnG4/?igshid=18v4bufg6lqx3">here</a>!!!! please go send them some love &lt;333333 they're such a great artist!!!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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